


Pride Engulfs Love

by floofboy



Category: Senyuu. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Cold Weather, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, Secret Santa, Senyuu Secret Santa 2020, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofboy/pseuds/floofboy
Summary: The research center is freezing cold- Ross wouldn't even bother going to work if he had the choice.(But he sees Alba at work, and so to work he goes.)He hadn't expected Alba to drop the solution to his problems into his arms.
Relationships: Alba Frühling/Ross | Creasion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25
Collections: Senyuu Secret Santa 2020





	Pride Engulfs Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OrangeLemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeLemon/gifts).



> Happy Holidays! I was your Secret Santa for this year's Senyuu Secret Santa 🥰 You said you wanted albatross, so I wrote 3k words of albatross fluff. I hope this satisfies!

It’s a cold winter, the research center is completely freezing, and Ross is more than tempted to just stop showing up for work. 

(But Alba is a workaholic, and he wants to see Alba, so to work he goes.)

Going to work turns out to be the correct answer in the end, because within ten minutes of walking through the door that day, Alba slides over with a cough and says- “Ross.”

Ross looks up from his desk to blink at Alba, eyebrow raised. “Hero?”

Alba looks nervous, a slight flush to his face despite the cold air. With a twist of his hand, a cloak falls through the air into his hands. 

“It-it’s been cold lately in the center, right?” Alba stammers out, holding out the cloak towards Ross. “I thought you could use this. For, um, thanks.” He coughs. “For still coming. I guess.”

Ross stares down at the cloak, rather taken aback. It’s cream, and quite large- no doubt it’d reach down to his feet if he put it on. White fur, looking soft and warm, lines every inch of its insides. 

As Alba starts babbling on about heat magic and tailoring spells, Ross… considers. 

He hasn’t worn a cloak since his Creasion days, so he can’t say he has any particularly fond memories of them. The threadbare clock he wore back then did little to warm him up, and he can remember shivering helplessly under it far too many times. 

If he had to choose, he’d say he’d prefer a coat, and so he really should’ve gone out and bought one for himself already. But he’s been lazy - it never gets too cold in this country anyways - so he had put it off. 

And now, Alba has come up to him with a cloak. 

A very nice cloak. 

His first instinct is to joke around, to mock Alba for putting the effort into something like this, to reject it completely and suggest Alba just throw it away. 

But… he is rather cold. 

And it _is_ a very nice cloak. 

(He can sense Alba’s mana settled around it even before putting it on, and he’s always loved the feel of Alba’s mana, though he’d rather die than admit it.)

So, fully ignoring Alba’s long and unnecessary explanation of how exactly he had produced the fur lining, Ross unceremoniously snatches the cloak from Alba’s hands. 

Then he throws it around himself in a careless manner, and immediately regrets it. The cloak is incredibly warm, but not in a bad way. It makes Ross want to lie down and let the warmth surround him-

(-let the soft feeling of Alba and Alba’s mana envelop him-)

-but that’s the last thing he wants to do in front of Alba. 

So instead, with great reluctance, he proceeds to throw off the cloak and let it fall into a wrinkled pile on his desk. 

“It could be worse, I suppose,” Ross says dismissively. “Maybe I’ll use it to warm up my lunch.”

“Your lunch?!” Alba sputters in offense, and to Ross’ relief, they easily fall into their usual dynamic. 

(And Ross gets to keep the cloak.)

* * *

Ross, naturally, leaves the research center much earlier than his workaholic boss. So after he gives Alba a bright farewell and heads out of the building, after a final glance back to make sure no one was following, he slips on the cloak. He wraps it around him tight, pulls down the hood over his eyes. 

It’s just as warm as it had been earlier for those brief few moments. He’s standing outside in the cold, the wind blowing into his face- but he doesn’t feel it. 

He loves this cloak, which is a problem- because he can’t let _Alba_ find out he loves such a heartfelt, personalized gift from him. 

But Ross supposes it’ll be okay. 

He should be able to hide something this small from Alba. 

(After all, it isn’t as though that idiot hero has ever realized how utterly smitten Ross is with him.)

* * *

When Ross arrives home, he (rather reluctantly) slides off the cloak and folds it over his arm before entering. 

Then, after giving a quick greeting to his mother in the living room - carefully keeping the cloak out of view to avoid any awkward questions - he hops up the stairs to his room and spreads the cloak out on his bed. 

Ross had made some sense of what Alba had done based on his rambling, but Alba always got hard to understand when he was nervous. So, Ross wants to investigate a little more himself.

His assessment, in the end, is begrudgingly impressed. 

The cloak is pure mana in physical form, which in itself must have been the most difficult part of the tailoring. But as a result, spells stick to it easier - Alba has mixed in hefty defensive enchantments and self-cleaning spells on top of the temperature control. 

And it is temperature control, not simply warmth - there’s some complex logic here that Ross has to squint to make out, but he figures it out eventually. It’s been woven to produce the most comfortable temperature for the outside conditions. 

Ross trails a hand down the ridiculously soft inside lining. 

Since when has Alba been able to craft something this complicated?

When Alba had graduated from his tutelage, Ross knows for sure Alba had neither the control or the finesse to make a cloak like this. 

It seems Alba grew quite a bit the year he spent investigating Elf November. 

(The year he ignored Ross entirely.)

Ross feels bitterness well up in his throat. 

But well-

He flops himself down on the cloak, pressing his face into the warmth, that feeling of _Alba,_ and smiles. 

That idiot hero had put so much effort into this silly cloak. Auto-cleaning, really? So incredibly unnecessary. Alba had put so much effort into this silly cloak for him, and him alone-

Ross cuts off his thoughts, an icy chill settling in his stomach. 

Was it for him alone?

...When had Alba ever said that?

 _As thanks for still coming,_ Alba had said. Wouldn’t that imply-

It isn't as though Ross is the only other employee at the research center. 

Ross snorts derisively. 

It turns out the real idiot was him. Getting all excited over nothing. Alba was nice to everyone- so of course he’d put in the effort to make everyone more comfortable. 

(He had thought though- despite that year of silence, the way Alba acts now, the blushing and stammering and longing looks, far too soft-

He had thought he had a chance. 

Was it really not a gift just for him?)

But now that he thinks it over, the cloak is pretty similar to Alba’s. Maybe Alba wants to make this a research center uniform or something. 

So lame. Totally mockable, and Ross always enjoys mocking Alba. 

(...He still kinda wants to punch Alba in the face.)

* * *

If it’s not a special gift, if Alba surely doesn’t care much about it either, then what’s the point of getting all worked up about it? That would just be embarrassing. 

No, the right move here is to act dismissive of it. 

(And if he’s wrong- if it really is a special gift…

Well, this would be a good way to check. And now that he thinks about it, he could certainly turn the tables on Alba if it was. 

He's always been able to push away his shame so long as Alba felt worse, after all!)

So Ross, deciding to head to work two days in a row for once, throws on the cloak and walks himself over, head held high. He steps into the research center, pokes his head into Alba’s lab, and says, “Good afternoon, Hero.”

Ross means to head over to his desk after that. 

Except Alba’s eyes light up, and Ross pauses, feeling something warm in his chest. 

“Ross!” exclaims Alba, sounding unfairly happy. He shifts up from the ground, his own creamy cloak swishing as he does, then continues, “Afternoon.”

He gives him a broad smile, so bright and shining Ross thinks he might just go blind. 

“What’s that on your face?” Ross sneers. “It’s disgusting.”

“Wha- there’s nothing on my face!” complains Alba. 

“Oh!” Ross brings his hand up to cover his mouth. “I apologize, I suppose your face is just that disgusting on its own.”

But Alba, rolling his eyes, doesn’t take the bait. On the contrary- his smile softens instead. 

“I’m glad you’re wearing the cloak,” Alba says abruptly, sincerely. 

Ross scowls. 

“Well, I mean,” he mutters. “I’d rather not be the odd one out.” He waves a dismissive hand. “We’re supposed to match, aren’t we?”

Alba flushing a deep red is the first sign that Ross’ initial assumption may have been correct. 

“Oh, I-I mean-” Alba stammers, “I didn’t- it’s true that I based it off of- but it wasn’t meant to-” he coughs, looking annoyingly pleased despite all the stammering. “Do, do you want to match?”

Ross narrows his eyes. 

“Hero,” he asks, raising the cloak up, showing off its fluffy interior. “You said this was ‘thanks for coming to the research center.’”

“I did?” Alba says dumbly, then coughs. “I mean, yes.”

Ross narrows his eyes further. 

“I’m not the only research center employee,” he says, “And I’m far from your most productive or indispensable one.”

Alba swallows nervously, and Ross desperately holds back a grin, because it wouldn’t do to count his chickens before they hatched. 

Ross continues, letting the cloak fall back down. “I thought you gave a cloak like this to all your employees.” He cocks his head to the side. “Am I wrong?”

“Oh, you thought-” Alba, looking a little disappointed, cuts himself off. He averts his gaze, turns it towards the ground. “It- I only gave it to you.”

Ross lets the grin he was holding back spread across his face. 

“And why,” he says sweetly, “did you only give it to me?”

Alba falls silent, but oh no, that wouldn’t do. Ross crouches a little, leans in to stare up into Alba’s eyes, and Alba, on cue, yelps and scrambles back a step. 

(His blush is still clear to be seen, and Ross’ smile widens.)

“What are you running away for, Hero?” 

“I-I’m not running away!” Alba snaps, defensive. He tries to back away again, but he missteps - with a yelp, he falls to the ground. 

Ross snorts and takes a step closer. “I do suppose it’s more akin to _stumbling_ away.” He raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to answer the question?” He trails a hand lightly down his cloak, and watches in satisfaction as Alba follows the movement. “Why was I the only one to get this gift?”

 _Say it,_ Ross thinks, desperation threading through his thoughts. _You can do it._

Alba swallows thickly, and Ross waits in anticipation. 

“It was- for thanks,” Alba says finally, and Ross’ disappointment is unmeasurable. 

“‘Thanks’,” Ross repeats flatly. “We already went over this, Hero- I’m far from the only research c-”

“-No, not for that,” Alba cuts in with a cough. “For- helping me out, before. You know. Teaching me magic and stuff.”

Alba’s eyes are swimming, and Ross is utterly unimpressed. 

“You put in this much effort for thanks for my tutelage, two years too late?” demands Ross. He takes another step forward to loom over Alba, still sprawled out unceremoniously on the ground. 

“Um,” Alba says weakly. 

“Tell me the truth,” Ross says, and he can’t help the frustration from leaking into his voice. 

Alba is silent for a beat, two, then-

“I’m- planning to move out!” he blurts out. 

Ross just blinks in confusion. “What?”

“My dad has pretty much come back home permanently, you know,” Alba continues, a note of desperation in his voice now. “So I kinda feel awkward at home now. I wanna get my own place and move out, yeah?”

“Hero,” Ross says, unamused, “Is there a point to this interlude?”

“I just figured I should get some practice! In preparation for moving out!” Alba exclaims, voice high and wild. “You know, there’s a lot of stuff you need when moving into a new place. Furniture! And- curtains! I, um, I thought it would be good to enchant anything new I got! Since it was- a good opportunity. And all.” He coughs. “Yeah.”

“That’s news to me, Hero.”

Ross had known that Midnight Frühling was spending more time at home- but he hadn’t heard anything about Alba planning to move out. Not one peep. 

“I, I uh-” Alba still won’t meet his eyes. “I decided to recently.”

“I see,” says Ross, icy cold. He opens his mouth, ready to spew pure vitriol, but then he pauses. 

A thought crosses his mind. 

Then he smiles, smiles as wide as he can. Ross continues, voice cheery- “I _see._ ”

Alba looks a little frightened at his sudden change in mood- as he should. Annoying, cowardly hero. Was it so hard to say three little words?

(Putting aside that Ross couldn’t bring himself to say those three little words either.)

Ross kneels down, brings himself to eye level with Alba, who was still fallen on the ground. 

“What a _coincidence_ , Hero,” Ross says, sing-songy. “I was thinking of moving out as well.”

“You- were?” asks Alba. 

“Of course,” Ross says, smile still sunny. “So don’t you think this is a perfect opportunity?” He shuffles ever-so-slightly forward, close enough that he can cup one of Alba’s hands in his own. 

Alba’s blush - which had been finally beginning to fade - returns with a new vengeance, much to Ross’ pleasure. 

(And if Ross’ face heats a little as well - it isn’t as though Alba would dare point it out right now.)

“Let’s find a place together, Hero.”

“What?” Alba says weakly. 

“Why wouldn’t we?” Ross says, tone bright as can be. “Isn’t it normal for… _friends_ to room together?”

“I mean,” Alba says, voice growing weaker and weaker by the second. “I guess, but- I mean-”

Ross pushes his advantage. 

“Is there a reason why you don’t want me as a roommate, Hero?” he asks sweetly. He leans his face closer, closer still, and Alba tries to escape, but there’s only so far he can lean back before his head slams against the ground. Ross stops, barely a fingers-width away from Alba’s face. “Is there something you don’t want me to find out?” He raises an eyebrow. “Something you don’t think you can hide, if we live together?”

Alba swallows, falling silent. His eyes flick to the side. 

“I…” 

His hand twitches in Ross’ grip, shifts to squeeze Ross’ hand right back. 

“Do you…” continues Alba, voice quiet. “Do you really want to- move in together?” 

His eyes flick back to meet Ross’. There’s a hint of steel to them now, and Ross is reminded, for the first time in a while, that Alba was a legendary hero as well.

Ross clears his throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Why wouldn’t I want convenient access to my favourite stress relief toy?”

Alba’s gaze _softens_ , for some inexplicable reason- but Ross only has some seconds to take that in, because in the next moment, his face is smushed into Alba’s chest. 

“Okay,” Alba murmurs into his ear. “I’m gonna try believing you.”

It’s too much. 

He’s still wearing the cloak Alba gave him, Alba’s mana in pure crystallized form- but now there’s Alba himself in front of him, just as warm, arms gently holding him in place-

It’s too much, it’s too warm, it’s too comfortable, he’s going to combust from sheer embarrassment. This wasn’t fair! Who did Alba think he was, acting all cool out of nowhere?

Ross tells himself to move. 

He tells himself to let out a cutting remark, to sneer, to snort in pure derision. 

(It seems his body has decided to go on strike though, because all he does is press himself closer still against Alba’s chest.)

* * *

“What kind of place were you thinking of getting, Ross?” Alba asks cheerily. 

Ross just stares a little blankly at the computer screen in front of them. 

“Ross?”

“I- hadn’t thought too much about it yet,” Ross says truthfully. 

(After all, he hadn’t been planning to move out at all until less half an hour ago.)

He still feels a little dazed. Alba finally had sat them up some minutes prior, grabbed an extra chair and brought them both to his desk, and now, apparently, they were house-browsing. On a computer. Because apparently that was a thing you could do, in this era of “spread-sheeps”. 

“I was thinking a small house in the outskirts of the capital might be nice,” Alba muses. He clicks some buttons on the screen, and the page refreshes, displaying a new set of houses for sale. “We can both use gates to get to where we need, after all, so we might as well go for the quieter option.” He clicks again, and a quaint wooden house pops up on the screen. “Oh, this one might be nice!”

“Hero,” says Ross, very slowly. 

“Mm?”

“Don’t you- is there nothing else you have to say?” Ross demands. 

Alba flushes a little. 

“Well, I mean,” he mumbles, gaze fixed to the computer screen. “There’s a lot I wanna say.”

Ross’ brow furrowed. “Then why…”

“...Isn’t there anything _you_ have to say?” Alba shoots back. 

“Huh?” Ross snorts, starting to feel a little more like himself. “Why would I have anything to say?”

“Then I don’t either,” Alba says stubbornly. 

Ross _stares._ Alba’s mouth is set, his eyes narrowed a little angrily towards the monitor. The mood Alba seems to be in, this stubborn anger- it’s not something Ross is too familiar with. 

And Ross can’t stop his confusion from spilling out. 

“What?”

“I want to hear it from you first,” Alba insists, finally turning to look back towards Ross. There’s a flicker of determined red in the depths of his eyes now. “You make fun of me, you laugh, you tease, but you don’t lie. So I want to hear you say it. With your own words.”

Ross is… flustered. 

“I-” he shakes his head, then doubles-down. “I don’t have anything to say.”

(He thinks it though, thinks those three little words, but that doesn’t mean much when he thinks about it all the time.)

Alba sighs deeply, but after a beat, two, he smiles, wry and resigned. 

He doesn’t seem surprised, and Ross doesn’t know whether to be offended about that. 

“I can wait,” he says, and the level of fondness in his voice, despite his obvious disappointment- 

It’s painful. 

But Ross’ pride rankles far too much at the idea of _confessing._ At the idea of admitting to Alba, in plain words- _ah yes, Hero. You own my heart. You have for years._

His hands clench. 

“Why do I have to _say_ it?” Ross mutters petulantly. It’s barely audible, he’s not quite sure if he means for Alba to hear it. 

But Alba does, and his eyes immediately brighten. 

“I can wait,” he says again, smile softer now. “I promise.”

Ross clicks his tongue. 

“What are you acting all cool for?” he sneers, “It’s not a very believable act when you quite literally just tripped over air trying to escape me.”

“I thought you were messing with me, okay! I didn’t want you to figure anything out!” sputters Alba. “But-” He reaches out, takes both of Ross’ hands in his own, and smiles. “I decided I’m gonna try believing you, yeah? So- it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“If you believe in me, you go first,” Ross says sweetly, but Alba just shakes his head stubbornly. 

“I still want to hear it in words,” Alba insists. “Eventually. I won’t rush you.” He rubs circles into the palms of Ross’ hands, his gaze still sickingly soft. “We have all the time in the world, don’t we?” 

Ross’ eyes narrow. This wasn’t good. It seems Alba’s confidence has ballooned, and he’s already taking it for granted that he’ll always have Ross by his side, in his arms. 

(It isn’t a wrong assumption, which is what makes it so problematic. At this rate, Alba would actually manage to wear him down eventually.)

So Ross decides he needs to take control of the situation. 

“I’ll kiss you now if you say it first, Hero.”

“You-” 

Ross can see the sheer temptation that flickers over Alba’s face, his hands twitching around Ross’, and so Ross thinks he’s won. But the next second, Alba shakes his head rapidly to-and-fro. 

“I just said I won’t rush you!” he sputters. “Really, Ross?”

“Tch.”

Ross is more than a little annoyed at being shot down so quickly, but he backs down for the moment. He gets the sense that pressing further won’t get Alba to change his mind. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, extracting his hands roughly from Alba’s grip. “Let’s just get back to house-hunting then, shall we?”

Alba smiles again. “That sounds good to me.”

Then he wraps an _arm_ around Ross, sneaking into his cloak to press Ross snug into his side, and Ross is tempted to kick him away and just leave the room. He does have a reputation to maintain, after all. 

But he doesn’t want to, he finds. 

So he doesn’t. 

(And well- “we have all the time in the world”?

Ross has to admit he likes the sound of that, in his heart of hearts.)

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Alba ends up accidentally confessing first anyways eventually, because he can't _help_ it, he loves Ros so much-
> 
> (It turns out okay in the end, because after some cursory mockery- Ros manages to bring himself to say it right back.)


End file.
